Hope Quote by Lewis J. Bates

Hope, here, isn’t a feeling; it’s a schedule. Lewis J. Bates stacks “Some day” like a drumbeat, turning longing into a kind of prophecy-by-repetition. The line isn’t trying to prove anything. It’s trying to endure. Each clause promises a moral restoration - Love “claim[ing] his own,” Right “ascend[ing] his throne,” Truth emerging from concealment - as if the universe is temporarily mismanaged but ultimately orderly, with justice waiting backstage for its cue.

The capitalization (Love, Right, Truth) matters. These aren’t personal experiences; they’re civic-sized forces, almost characters in a religious pageant. “Claim” and “throne” are legal and monarchical verbs: Love is owed an inheritance; Right has been usurped; Truth has been buried, not merely misunderstood. Bates isn’t describing gradual progress so much as a reversal of occupation, a return of rightful rulers after an era of fraud.

The subtext is the tension between certainty and delay. “Some day” concedes powerlessness in the present while refusing to surrender the future. That makes the final turn - “some sweet day” - strategically intimate. After three grand abstractions, the poem slips into taste and texture, as if sweetness is the reward for waiting, the emotional wage for surviving a world where the obvious has been postponed.

Read in the context of late-19th/early-20th century American moral verse and hymn-like optimism, it’s a lyric designed for communities living through reform battles, grief, or social upheaval: a promise that history has a conscience, even when the calendar won’t cooperate.